


Treehouse

by castronomicaaal



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castronomicaaal/pseuds/castronomicaaal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth is small with big blue eyes and long blonde hair and a giggle that sounds like the choir of a million singing angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treehouse

**Author's Note:**

> Beth and Rick only have a three year age gap in this AU story. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think in the comments below - it would mean a lot. :)

**He is eight and she is five when she first moves into town.**

Beth is small with big blue eyes and long blonde hair and a giggle that sounds like the choir of a million singing angels. She’s sweet and polite, always saying hi to those she passes by on the street with her parents.

When she meets Rick for the first time, she and her mother are stopping by the police station to drop off cookies as a form of thank you for a few officers who had helped them move in the week before.

That is when Beth spots him.

He’s obviously older than her, but probably not by a lot. He’s sitting in one of the officers chairs behind a desk, coloring on a piece of crumpled paper. She finds herself immediately drawn to him, waving shyly. He looks at her and waves back, smiling with a gap where one of his front teeth should be. Beth finds herself hoping he lives nearby and maybe that they could play together someday.

After all, he is the first person in town to smile back, just like her. 

* * *

 

 

**He is thirteen and she is ten and he builds her a treehouse in her backyard with the help of her father.**

Rick doesn’t know why he does it, really. Just knows that Beth has been talking about wanting one a lot lately and the thought of the blonde smiling at him, being surprised and thankful for his handiwork makes his heart happy.

And so he works all day and late into the night, happy that Beth’s mother had taken the kids out for the weekend to visit with family. He and Hershel work in companionable silence, hammering nails into wood and painting the walls bright yellow just like they both know she’d want it to be.

By mid-afternoon the following day they finish, standing below with their hands on their hips admiring their accomplishment. Rick breathes heavily, tired from the long workday, but stands before their treehouse proudly, his eyes shining as he thinks about Beth coming back home to her very own secret place to hide out in and play inside of.

Turns out he doesn’t have to wait very long at all. Not even fifteen minutes later and the Greene’s are pulling into the driveway. Beth hopes out from the backseat with wide eyes and an open mouth, running towards her father and Rick, ignoring her mother’s protests to be careful and not get any dirt or mud on her dress.

She stands before them for a few silent minutes, with a slack jaw and wide, disbelieving blinking eyes. Eventually a squeal of delight pulls from in between her lips and she rushes forward, throwing her arms around Rick.

Hershel stands by watching, a knowing smile on his face.

“Thank you so much,” she whispers against the shell of his ear. He can feel her wet tears as they fall along his shoulder and Rick finds himself catching his breath, suddenly lost for words. He couldn’t have even begun to imagine the profound effect this small gesture could have possibly had on the blonde currently buried within his arms.

Forget feeling happy; his heart feels infinite.

* * *

 

 

**He is seventeen and she is fourteen when he finally comes to terms with his feelings for her.**

Beth is beautiful, everything he could ever possibly want and more, which only makes walking away that much harder for him.

But he is headed to the police academy soon and she is still just so young, so fragile. They’re almost a thousand worlds apart these days, in completely different parts of their lives. Rick feels terrible about it, wanting nothing more than to be by Beth’s side through everything she is certain to be dealing with soon as far as growing up is concerned. Realistically he knows it’s not possible to be there for her in the way he would like to be, but he tries to be there for her in the way he knows he should be.

Still, when she rides her bike down the street with her friends, big pink bubbles popping from between her lips and even bigger giggles, Rick’s heart aches for her. _Beth is just a girl, just a girl—_ the mantra he keeps telling himself as he sits along the steps of his own porch while she rides by.

And then Beth pauses her bicycle, allowing for her friends to travel further and further away. Popping her kickstand she offers him a big wave and a huge, bright white smile. Rick feels his heart flutter as he waves back.

“We still goin’ to the movies tonight?” She wonders.

He bites his lip as he regards her. Her long hair blows in the wind, framing her face just right. She watches him with a sense of peacefulness, of serenity, and it nearly blows his mind to know that he could ever make someone as pure as Beth smile like that just for him.

‘Going to the movies’ has always been their secret code for meeting up in the treehouse. They used to sneak off up there to draw pictures on the walls in chalk, to blow bubbles, and to play pretend. Now that they’re growing up it’s less play and more talking. Lately they’ve been discussing Rick heading off to college.

He should tell her no. He needs to make it clear that they shouldn’t be friends anymore; that it can only lead to trouble.

“Sure.”

Rick smiles back and wonders why he just can’t say no to her. Really, he already knows the truth.

He is head over heels in love with little Beth Greene from down the road. 

* * *

 

 

**He is nineteen and she is sixteen the first time they kiss; the first time they make love, surrounded by the warmth of each other’s arms.**

Blankets are scattered everywhere throughout the treehouse, keeping them heated on an otherwise chilly night. Her body moves in rhythm to his own, fitting perfectly and making her question the reason other girls would whisper in secrecy about their first time hurting or being uncomfortable.

Rick makes everything comfortable, he makes everything feel right. His fingertips brush her skin lightly, making her shiver and moan and both eyes dance beneath their lids with pleasure. His lips glide across Beth’s neck and shoulders and arms, peppering kisses wherever exposed flesh is freshly available. He makes her feel as though she is the most beautiful woman in the world, taking time to care for her body and for her needs in great detail. She does her best to return his passion tenfold.

Afterwards, once the glow of arousal burns out and only sated, tired admiration remains, Beth cuddles beneath his arm and rests her soft blonde locks upon his chest.

He breathes slowly beneath her and she can tell he is close to falling asleep, counting each heartbeat beneath her ear as he does so.

Beth counts to eighty-five before she succumbs to her own slumber, peaceful in Rick’s arms. 

* * *

 

 

**He is twenty-four and she is twenty-one and Rick promises to take Beth dancing after his shift comes to an end.**

It’s far too late and pouring out by the time he comes home. He finds Beth curled up on the couch with a book and a hot cup of tea, sipping away and reading.

Rick takes a moment to watch her, unbuttoning his coat and hanging it aside as he admires her from the back. Her blonde hair rests gently on the couch, contrasting beautifully with the colors of the red sofa.

Her fingers continuously tap the page as she reads and she hums softly to herself, completely lost in the story. The man smiles lightly, touched as he watches her.

Eventually he approaches the blonde, covering her eyes with his hands. “Guess who,” he whispers quietly as she laughs against him, pressing a soft kiss to his palm before he pulls away.

“You made it,” she smiles, turning to meet his gaze.

The pair shares a brief kiss before he backs away, frowning tiredly. “I’m so sorry. My shift ended hours ago but I had to cover for one of the guys who got hurt on the job.”

Beth bites her lip worriedly, tossing her book to the side. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Rick nods. “Got roughed up a little bit tryin’ to make an arrest earlier. I couldn’t call because the storm knocked the lines down.”

“It’s okay,” she promises, her smile back and working full force. Despite her obviously being okay with this, Rick still finds himself feeling bad about it.

“We’ll go dancin’ soon, I promise.” His eyes shine in the dimly lit living room and Beth can tell that he means it sincerely.

A mischievous grin tugs at her lips not long after and she stands, pulling a confused Rick by the hands. “Come on,” she tells him, “we can still dance.”

They spend midnight outside in the pouring rain, bodies pressed close as they dance and laugh and shiver.

* * *

 

 

**He is twenty-six and she is gone, buried beneath the dirt and left to decay, never destined to make it past twenty-three.**

Rick takes a hammer to the treehouse after the funeral, hitting the wood over and over and over and over again because he can and he doesn’t think he could stand to see it standing there before him for even a second longer.

When he looks up at the house he thinks about her; about the peeling yellow paint on the walls and how it once shone with the same light of a thousand of her smiles. Of the afternoon she thanked him for building it for her, her little hands wrapped tight around his waist. Of countless hours spent up there alone together, early morning games of house and action heroes turning, over time, into late nights spent showing their love for one another by means of kisses and touches and whispered words of forever.

And now their forever is dead and gone, buried beneath the dirt with Beth Greene, and the only thing this house signifies is loss and hurt and what could have been but can now never be.

Raising the hammer, Rick continues to swing away. He continues to swing even when his hands begin to bleed, blisters forming on his already calloused palms. When his eyes are so filled with tears he can no longer see anything before himself. When he slices open his arm on an edge of splintered wood; still, he continues to hit.

It’s only after he reaches a forgotten corner of the treehouse, spotting Beth’s name carved into the side of the wood beside his own with a heart, that Rick sets the hammer aside.

Curling up on the floor, legs tucked beneath his arms and blood dripping slowly from his injuries, Rick cries.

He sobs for his loss, for their loss. He sobs for all of the nights they had yet to share up here in the dark, huddled beneath the moon and safe from the weight of the world. Rick sobs for Beth’s perfect smile, for her perfect hair, for her perfect lips, her perfect heart, and all of the perfect words she used to say to him but will never speak aloud again.

He traces soft patters along her engraved name until his fingers go numb, and then for a bit longer afterwards.

Soon enough he falls to sleep, body heavy and laced with anger and sadness and regret; a heavy burden for such a young man to bear all on his own.

When he wakes in the morning, for the briefest of moments, he can picture Beth beside him. Her blue eyes blink slowly, pushing the sleep from her eyes. She smiles, biting her lip and giggling up at him in only a way she ever could.

But before Rick can grab for her she is gone, just a figment of his imagination. He sighs loudly, running a shaking hand through his unkempt hair before looking down towards the ground through the giant, tattered hole he had created the night before.

There in the grass he spots wood, plenty of boards ready to be used, and a big can of bright yellow paint.

Rick sighs once more, closing both eyes and breathing deeply. He drops to the ground without bothering to use the ladder and picks up a note taped to the paint can.

_Her favorite place in the whole wide world—remember that._

Biting back tears he nods to himself, crumpling up the paper and tossing it aside. Although his hands are bruised and bleeding, tired and raw, Rick knows what he needs to do.

Two days later, nearly identically to all those years ago, he steps back and admires his handiwork with both hands on his hips.

But instead of smiles there are tears and instead of Beth pulling him into a tight hug, a strong gust of wind blows past and swipes at his shirt, chilling him to his core.

Maybe it’s nothing, but a small part of Rick somewhere deep within the back of his mind thinks that it may have been Beth.

 

_We’re born with millions of little lights shining in the dark_

_And they show us the way_

_One lights up_

_Every time you feel love in your heart_

_One dies when it moves away._

**Author's Note:**

> I am the shitiest human bein on earth, I know. My apologizes, but sometimes stories just demand to be written. The end italics are 'All The Little Lights' by Passenger and it's brilliant! I recommend giving it a listen.


End file.
